


i'm right here

by memesofbees



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memesofbees/pseuds/memesofbees
Summary: That was it.This thunderstorm, this natural disaster consuming his stomach, up his spine. Multiplying into his bones.★Inspired by art by the wonderful emuyhn.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/frikfrakle/status/830632687354441728), drawn by the always spicy, always talented [emuyhn](https://twitter.com/emuyhn) on twitter. Check them out, give them all your love, because they're honestly super chill. Title comes from a song by the Weeknd, and though the lyrics don't really apply, the rhythm and feeling worked w the fic so I just kinda listened to that on repeat as I wrote this in half an hour lmao

“God, _Keith,_ ” Lance whispered, more a hot wash of air against Keith’s throat than words, arching his back further. He held his hand to the side of Lance’s head, curling fingers into his hair to keep him in place. It felt like he aimed for a kiss, a nip at the sweat-soaked skin where he breathed, but Lance only managed to stutter out another breath.

The arm around his waist tightened, other hand drifting over his chest. Keith moaned, head falling back as Lance shifted underneath him, inside him. He pushed his hips back, trying to get more contact, feeling like his entire body was cremating from the inside out.

He always thought it overkill, when people called sex ‘making love’. The word itself, looking at it, let alone hearing it, would make him gag. His eighth grade health teacher, a batty old woman he couldn’t remember the name of, had said it with a dusty accent, flat.

Like it meant nothing. Maybe his taboo had started there.

But it ended the first time Lance had called his name in a last broken attempt to ground himself. He’d pressed their foreheads together, the tiny bubbles of tears that’d been forming at the corners of his eyes rolling down his temples. He kept repeating it, like it was the only thing keeping him from flying apart, kissing him, holding him closer, closer, closer.

That was it.

This thunderstorm, this natural disaster consuming his stomach, up his spine. Multiplying into his bones.

He inhaled shallowly, forcing his eyes open. He couldn’t do much more than allow his head to fall in Lance’s direction, the bridge of his nose bumping Lance’s. His eyes were still closed, eyelashes fluttering against Keith’s cheek.

“Lance,” he managed, just barely, scraping it’s way out. He sounded as wrecked as he felt, and Lance took notice, leaning into his voice.

It was getting painful. His heart was beating hard, bruising, cracking his ribs. Gasoline soaked through his veins, and he wanted a match.

He wanted an entire fucking forest fire.

He gripped Lance’s thigh, barely managing a gasp as he bucked up. “Baby—“ Lance’s hold on his waist was bruising, “’M sorry, can’t— shit— I can’t stop—“

“Don’t.” His body moved with Lance’s, a languid rhythm like a flame. The slide of their skin was slicked with sweat, making the sound almost obscene. “Don’t stop, sweetheart.”

And Lance didn’t. He moved in away that Keith could meet him in the middle, balanced to drop down at every thrust. Lance was babbling nonsensical Spanish, Keith only able to catch some curses, his name.

He pushed back in a fluid movement, swirling his hips. Lance cried out, head lolling back. Keith dragged him close, kissing the surprise off his lips.

He moaned, unable to keep his back against Lance, arching away. Lance balanced his chin on his shoulder softly, “Okay? You okay?”

“I’m good,” he pulled him close, jaw clenching. His eyes dropped closed, fireworks going off behind his eyelids, “I’m so good.”

Lance hummed, a hint of a smirk just forming, “You’re so good. So fucking good. You’re gorgeous, _Dios_ , you’re beautiful, Keith—“ He broke off, that shred of bravado bleeding out.

They continued, the flame eventually growing out of control, sputtering, begging to be put out. Keith couldn’t find time to speak, his mouth occupied with noises he’d probably regret later. He finally let go of Lance’s leg, fisting the hand into the sheets before skimming it over himself.

His neck cracked almost complete in half. It was only a loose fist, but he was already approaching the roaring edge and just about anythi—

Lance’s voice was honey on burning coals, “Keith, y-you could’ve asked.”

“You,” words were hard, “You seemed preoccupied.”

“With _you_ ,” he’d been stroking Keith’s chest, the bruises below his collarbone, slowly starting to drift down, “ _terco._ Let me take care of you.”

“I’m—fuck— not stopping you.”

Lance trailed to his wrist, pulling until Keith let go. He intertwined their hands, pressing into Keith’s stomach. Then Lance wrapped the hand around him, slowly stroking up and down with his thumb.

Keith moaned, canting to meet him. Lance gasped in his ear. He pulled at his hair, a silent plea for him to continue.

Lance always listened to him. Lance always obliged.

He was standing on the drop of the waterfall, a human torch in the water. He wanted to jump. He knew he was going to.

But he grabbed Lance by the arm before he did and took him with him.

Lance pumped him, squeezing with just enough force to have him sobbing. It took two more juts of his hips, a four letter paragraph burned into his shoulder.

“ _Keith_ — fuck—baby _, cariño,_ ” he was dragging butterflies everywhere he could reach, like ice cubes to a sun burn, “ _te amo. M-Me arruinas.”_

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, bringing their hands to his mouth, barely managing a kiss against Lance’s knuckles with the way he was breathing. “ _T—_ I love you s-so damn much. I love you like the stars, _Lance_ —“ The water sprayed his ankles, up his legs, but the fire was consuming everything, dissolving any semblance of thought except—

 _Lance, Lance, sweetheart— God,_ Lance _—_ And it was all too late for him to realize that he’d said it out loud and more. His filter completely ceased to exist around this time, corroded in the heat.

He clenched around Lance, arching almost off his lap. Lance made a strangled noise, managing to ride Keith through his fall before plummeting with him.

_“Keith.”_

(There hadn’t been a time, yet, when he’d come without saying his name. He managed it, somehow, packing all of his high into a single syllable.)

Keith stroked his hair, murmured encouragements as he gasped, hand falling to clamp on Keith’s hip. "I'm here, sweetheart... I'm right here."

They were extinguished.

And now came the smoke. They slowly untangled to clean up, leaving the strange, empty feeling that came after Lance pulled out of him.

The ache was already settling into his muscles, and Keith loved it. "You do me. I don't want to move."

Lance smirked, twisting the towel between his fingers, "I thought I just did."

Groaning, Keith made a feeble attempt to smack his arm, ultimately giving up with a scowl, "Come over here so I can hit you, jackass."

"Careful," he wiped at Keith's stomach, leaning down to kiss his cheek, "with talk like that I might just want to go for round two."

"Never thought you'd be into that kind of stuff. Noted."

He made a big show of a noise, tossing the towel away, "Alright, alright, I get it. You're funny. You're a funny guy," he burrowed himself under the blankets, throwing both arms around Keith's waist and tugged him so his head was settled under his chin. "Don't let anybody else know. I'd have to find a new thing."

Keith brought one arm up, linked loosely around Lance's shoulder, the other playing with his ridiculously messed up hair. Which, okay, he'll take the blame for. "You have plenty of things," Keith murmured, "you're my sharpshooter."

He felt Lance's smile against his chest before he heard it, "You get so soft after, man. It's adorable."

"I could go back to my room, if—"

Lance snored explosively, throwing himself over Keith's body. He pinned him with a leg across his thighs, ear pressed to Keith's heart. Keith laughed through his nose, putting one arm around Lance's back. His weight was familiar, fitting perfectly over every edge and dip. Keith kissed the freckle over his right eyebrow.

They settled. Lance's fake snoring was interrupted by yawns. Keith lazily traced patterns into his skin, let him ramble about the day's precedings in a slurred muddle. 

These were the embers. Still warm, still carrying the memory of the fire. God, yeah, it was cliche as shit to be comparing it all to fire, especially considering it was literally his element.

But that's what they  _were_. They were fire and ice, can't have one without the other. Yin and yang, or whatever.

Keith was a fire and Lance had burned. Lance was an ocean and Keith had drowned.

So he closed his eyes and let the water overtake him, falling asleep to his sharpshooter mumbling about how Shiro had cheated in Gold Fish last night.

It was love.

**Author's Note:**

> terco = stubborn, pero like less than dumbass
> 
> me ruinas = you ruin me
> 
> I like the concept of Keith calling Lance sweetheart because I'm sappy and my friend's dad comes from San Antonio and is always calling her mom that and it's really cute. I was considering darlin' but couldn't get through writing it w/o snorting so, y'know. Comments and Kudos make my day so pls... feed my ego <3 <3
> 
> talk to me, dudes:  
> twitter: [@hivekyu](https://twitter.com/hivekyu)  
> tumblr: [@paladon-t](http://paladon-t.tumblr.com/)


End file.
